Rube Goldberg Machines and Rude, Glare-y Guys
by adulations
Summary: Lizzie and Darcy are stuck doing a physics project together. High school AU.


_AU PROMPT: High school AU, characters stuck working together on a project._

[from fanficy-prompts on tumblr] because I'm lazy and can't think of actual things to write to be perfectly honest.

* * *

Dr. Gardiner, physics teacher and high schooler wrangler extraordinaire, stood in front of the classroom with a smile so evil it could only mean they had a dreaded group project. Despite her seemingly harmless appearance, giant coffee mug on her desk and kitten desktop wallpaper on her school-issued computer, she could definitely pack a punch when it came to the dreaded group project portion of the class.

"Crap,"exclaimed Lizzie to her sister Jane, unheard in the hubbub of passing period, chairs scraping and friends greeting each other loudly.

Jane didn't seem to notice the cloud of foreboding that hung over the class. _"Lizzie!" _she hissed, "Don't be so negative!" She swatted Lizzie playfully with her notebook. Jane was the kind of person who baked something for every teacher she had throughout the year, loved kittens, and had probably never sworn in her life. Her strawberry blonde hair seemed to be a complete anomaly to anyone who knew her, as her mother's black hair and her father's brown hair didn't quite add up to blonde. She was considered a shoo-in for Prom Queen and was almost definitely going to snag the rich and handsome kid Charlie Bingley as her date to said event.

Charlie Bingley walked in just as Jane turned around in her seat to glance at the door. A wide grin swept across his face and he walked over to her with boyish enthusiasm, a warm greeting on his lips.

The bell rang, and the last of the stragglers hurriedly took their seats. William Darcy and Charlie Bingley's snobby sister, Lizzie was quick to note, had arrived through the door last, and almost seemed as though they didn't care if they were marked tardy. _Of course, _she thought, _They probably don't. _Darcy's father was a mogul of a big media company back in England that was looking to expand to the United States and especially Silicon Valley. Darcy probably thought he could get away with whatever he wanted because of whatever weird privileged superiority complex one seemed to get from that kind of thing. His general demeanor supported this hypothesis, as he was often rude and unpleasant to anyone besides Charlie and Caroline.

Dr. Gardiner began passing out the dreaded assignment sheet. Lizzie took it with a small "thanks," then perused the two-page document with increasing dread.

**RUBE GOLDBERG PARTNER PROJECT**

**worth 100 points**

"No, you aren't choosing your partner for this project," said Dr. Gardiner. Immediately, several hands that had seemed to suddenly appear out of thin air at receiving the projects dropped back into oblivion. She pulled up a document on her computer, which had a table of the groups the students were to work in. "Here are the groups you're going to work in. No excuses, no exceptions, no 'I can't work with this person, they're horrible.'"

Lizzie thought the teacher paused her gaze on her as she swept her eyes across the room.

**Block 5 Partners:**

Annie deBourgh | Clara Watson

Candi Carter | Delilah Stone

Charlie Bingley | Jane Bennet

Charlotte Lu | Rachel Collins

Garima Panesar | Daniel Hurst

Geo Wickham | Mandy King

Lizzie Bennet | William Darcy -

Lizzie stopped reading abruptly at the 7th row of the list and tried not to send glares of death at Will Darcy, bane of her life and stuck up jerk. Instead she started doodling in the corner of the assignment page, drawing figures that vaguely resembled explosions or possibly flowers. Lizzie wished she had the drawing capacity to draw Darcy being devoured by a giant homework monster or something similarly horrific, but she figured she couldn't draw much more than stick figures anyways, so it was a lost cause.

Dr. Gardiner announced that they would have half an hour to begin initial planning on their machines and then they would regroup for another lecture on forces and momentum.

Lizzie was happy for Jane, of course. She would have a great time with her "Bing" and hopefully a prom asking would be forthcoming. They would make the cutest couple and were great study buddies as it was (Jane had been asked over to 'study' for an upcoming test no less than three times. Lizzie always questioned her afterward, but Jane insisted that they _had_ been studying, _no_, there hadn't been any kissing or canoodling or whatever Lizzie insisted had gone on.)

Lizzie tapped on Jane's shoulder, as soon as she had sorted out her thought sufficiently and noticed that Jane and Bing were making eyes at each other. "No one should be _that_ excited for a group project," said Lizzie to her, laughing as Jane realized what she had been doing.

"Be quiet, Lizzie," said Jane, "I know you're upset about getting Darcy as a lab partner, but-"

Lizzie wondered why Jane had stopped talking so quickly then looked up to find Will Darcy looming over them with an expression of mild displeasure.

"I believe we're supposed to be working with our lab partners," said Will, looking pointedly at Jane.

Jane didn't shrink back, but gave him a smile and stood up, motioning for him to take her seat. She went over to talk to Bing, who was chatting with Charlotte Lu and Rachel Collins while he waited for Jane.

Darcy slid into the recently vacated chair and his scowl seemed to grow, if it was possible. He slid his assignment sheet and a pen over to Lizzie.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" she asked, slightly affronted by the sudden replacement of her sister by someone much, much more unpleasant. Her mouth had firmed into a scowl and already she was looking longingly at the bathroom pass that hung next to the door. She also noticed, as she pulled off the cap, that the pen was some sort of fancy fountain pen. _Totally a Darcy thing to do._

"Write your phone number and email," said Darcy, not bothering to ask as he took hers and proceeded to follow his own instructions.

Lizzie did so reluctantly, worried that Darcy had some ulterior motive (_of course he doesn't,_ she assured herself. _My life isn't a spy movie, nor a murder mystery. I hope._) She handed the paper back to him quickly and hoped that after setting up a date for meeting after class they could be done with all interaction and she could go back to doodling and hoping the period would end so that she could get away from William Darcy and his infinite-superiority-jerkface complex.

"How does the morning of March 8 work for you?" she asked, already going through who would have the car on any given day of the week. If she took it at eight in the morning and got back in time for lunch, no one would yell at her for using it too much.

"That's fine," said Darcy, adding the event to his weird tablet-like phone that probably cost a fortune and a half. "My house?"

"Sure," said Lizzie, not wanting to be in Darcy's domain but also not wanting him to have another thing to judge about her- the size of her house. He probably had a mansion and servants and it was probably like Downton Abbey but with less black and white and urgent letters or whatever happened in that show (her mom's favorite show was Downton Abbey, second only to The Price is Right and whatever soap her friends had gotten her hooked on that week.)

"I've got camera equipment and the basement is reasonably empty so we can use that," he said, seemingly checking off things on a mental checklist.

"I need to bring something as well," Lizzie said, as he started to catalogue all the building materials in his house that they could possibly use.

"No, it's fine," said Darcy, looking at her strangely. "I've got everything."

Lizzie almost rolled her eyes at him in disgust. He was trying to show her up again, and she was taking none of it. "I'll bring some of my dad's plywood scraps and some marbles," she said.

"Whatever," said Darcy, "I was just trying to be friendly, which is something you obviously don't understand."

"I don't want to argue with you right now," snapped Lizzie, snatching back her paper, where Darcy had written his phone number and email in the upper right hand corner, away from her doodles and in an even, smooth hand.

"Why were you doodling a fat platypus?" asked Darcy, almost seeming genuinely curious.

Lizzie chose not to respond to preserve her dignity.

* * *

i'm very, very rusty, so sorry for any annoying things in this chapter. next one should be up in the next couple of weeks.


End file.
